


Throwing Dice In The Dark

by NotLostAnymore



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Angst, Anxiety, Bittersweet Ending, Comfort Sex, Danvin (Implied), Fake AH Crew, Freewood (discussed), Los Santos, M/M, Mavin (discussed), Mental Breakdown, Mild Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:12:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7608703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotLostAnymore/pseuds/NotLostAnymore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Los Santos breaks everybody down eventually, it just hits Jeremy much harder and faster than most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Throwing Dice In The Dark

Jeremy liked being drunk. It let him feel free, like somebody had finally rolled open the doors to his prison cell and he could sprint away as fast as he possibly wanted. He never made it quite far enough, of course, but it was the potential that kept him going time after time. The thought that maybe one day he’d feel just as good sober as he did with half a dozen pints down him. It was no way to live and he knew it but when had that ever stopped him? Everybody in Los Santos had their own coping mechanisms, this just happened to be his.

Getting drunk made the blood he had to wash off his hands feel like nothing more than red paint, a minor inconvenience rather than a tragedy. He was able to laugh off the red that splattered across his shirt when that last thug had gotten too close to him during their last heist, as if it had been a paintball match rather than a more fatal meeting.

He never drank on the job, of course. He wasn't that stupid. He saved it for when he got back, whether it was Geoff’s swanky penthouse or his own dingy apartment, anywhere where he could finally cut back and relax. Could let all the tension he’d built up over the day out and numb his brain with a beer or six. Out of the whole crew only Geoff drank more and there was a part of Jeremy that thought it was maybe a warning, that maybe he was losing his grip but he never let himself dwell on it for too long.

He was more fun when he’s drunk - or at least that’s what Gavin told him. More willing to take risks, more outgoing. Jeremy wondered whether the fact he was more likely to fuck Gavin when he’s drunk influences that statement at all. It had somehow become a regular occurrence, one that the rest of the crew weren't quite sure they understood but never bothered getting in the way of. They weren't hurting anybody but themselves and it wasn't like the others ever saw the scratches Gavin left down his back, a parting gift he could feel for days afterwards. 

Truth be told, Jeremy couldn't quite remember how he'd first fallen into bed with Gavin. It was one of those nights when he'd definitely hit his limit and continued drinking, the same as Gavin with whatever the hell he was smoking. He couldn't remember anything else until the morning when he found himself in Gavin's bed, the sheets barely concealing them both. A glance in the mirror revealed small presents left by Gavin, littered across his skin from his neck to his back and arms. No part appeared to be untouched and while there was a small wave of embarrassment at first, it was replaced to a more unique feeling. Jeremy couldn't quite make sense of it, he just knew that he didn't feel quite as regretful as he thought he might. He knew it wasn't unheard of for crew members to hook up but he never thought he'd be one of those people simply because he never thought any of them would ever look at him twice. Very few people had before and the ladies and gents of Fake AH were all far too beautiful and powerful enough to ever notice him as anything more than as a teammate. That was what he'd thought before that night at least and even if some of that mentality stuck with him, Gavin was there to remind him it wasn't a case.

What they shared was probably just as unhealthy as the drinking but once again Jeremy couldn't bring himself to stop. It was like an addiction and not one he wanted to fight, not when it helped center the crazy world that never seemed to stop spinning. Before all of this he'd been a college student with dreams of going into banking. He was going to settle down with a nice girl, buy a house and have kids. It had always been the plan. He wasn't sure his teenage self would even recognize him now. He hadn't just strayed from the path, he'd thrown himself off the side and hadn't even bothered to try and climb back. Leading an honest life in Los Santos never got anybody anywhere other than a grave and he didn't want that for himself. He wanted something more and he could find it with the crew.

Jeremy wasn't an idiot, he had always known that life in a crew would be taxing on his physical and mental health. In his early days he'd listened to Gavin and Ryan recount gruesome stories while Caleb explained some of the injuries the boys had come back with. He'd been worried that he'd end up like that, with both legs broken or something, but he had a hard head and didn't give up at the slightest suggestion of danger. He just needed a little courage and he found that in drink. 

It was Geoff's fault, really. He'd offered Jeremy a drink the night after their first heist, when Jeremy couldn't stop shaking as memories replayed on a loop in his mind. It hadn't been the first time he'd killed somebody but he'd never used a blunt object to bash somebody's skull in before. That kind of thing definitely took a part of you that you never got back. "It was kill or be killed," Geoff assured him, arm thrown around his shoulder before offering the younger male his hipflask. "You did what you had to."

Pulling himself back together as best as he could, Jeremy accepted the drink and forced a smile onto his face. It became his natural defense after that, just drink and smile. If anybody saw through it then at least they didn't have the common sense to mention it to him. Besides, it wasn't as if they didn't all have their own coping mechanisms. Gavin never even really tried to hide the fact that he used sex to deal with all his self-doubts, to reassure himself that he could be desired even if he was a criminal. After those rare occasions when he'd been called out onto a heist with them, Caleb practiced his stitches for hours afterwards, even as his fingers shook. Most bizarre of all, Ryan would disappear into his own room and emerge hours or even days later with a new still life painting. The fact it was so ordinary and dull made it all the more terrifying.

Nobody talked about their coping mechanisms simply because it seemed impolite. They all knew the others were cracking just as much as they were, only it felt like a dirty secret they were desperate to keep in the closet. They were all well aware of the fearsome reputation the crew had built around themselves and nobody wanted to be the weak link, the one that would put them all at risk by exposing just how vulnerable they really were. So instead of saying anything Jeremy just grabbed a liquor bottle and poured himself a drink.

When Jeremy was a kid, he struggled with anxiety. It was a story he'd never shared with anyone, especially not in the crew, even those like Matt or Gavin he was actually close to. He'd considered it all to be in his past but with every passing day he could feel the familiar shadow creeping back in, eating away at the back of his mind like a cancer. Back then his parents had been concerned enough to pressure him into regular therapy and onto medication. He'd hated it at the time, thinking it made him weak because he couldn't stand on his own two feet. It took time and was an up-hill battle but eventually he learned to let the help in and years later he felt like a different man entirely. College had been kind to him, boosting his confidence and teaching him the importance of physical exercise. The Jeremy that graduated there was by no means the pushover his high school bullies had enjoyed tormenting so much.

Los Santos' bullies weren't like the ones back in high school though. They were criminals now, criminals with every intention of inflicting as much pain as possible without any regret. They weren't the ones to blame for his returning anxiety though, as much as he wished they were. At least then he'd have a physical target that he could riddle with bullets and leave in his past. No, it was thoughts like that which were dragging him backwards, leaving him feeling more like a shell than a real human. He spent whole nights awake unable to calm his mind, telling himself not to give into paranoia even as his hands trembled and he gasped for breath. Suddenly he was nothing more than an awkward fourteen year old boy again, desperately trying to work out whether it was worth living another day when it felt like he was in living in Hell without any sort of reprieve. Hell looked very different these days but there was no denying that Los Santos a moral wasteland that they were all trapped in for better or worse.

When Jeremy eventually did give in to the pressure of his own mind's sabotage, he was glad that for the most part he was alone. The apartment block they had been living out of for years now had been hit by a pretty ballsy attack by the Fakehaus crew, the new guys in town with every intention of uprooting them from their position of power. They'd all gotten out alive of course but it had been a close scare and now they were all left spread out across the city as they licked their wounds. They could try to paint it any way they wanted but they all knew deep down that it had been a victory for Fakehaus and just another reminder that they were silently falling apart at the seams.

Jeremy wasn't even sure where the rest of the crew had gone, hell he wasn't even sure how he'd made it back to his own apartment but only Gavin was there for company and honestly he was glad. His vision was swimming after his fourth drink in the space of a half hour and Gavin had already made short work of their clothes, kissing at every bit of exposed flesh he could get his hands on. It wasn't like he minded all that much anyway. Whatever the _thing_ he shared with Gavin was, it had always been nice. It was a pleasant reminder of how far he'd come since his high school days at the very least. He'd never felt desirable before, too busy with his studies to notice any girls staring at him and certainly too reserved to consider that maybe guys at the gym were watching with admiration rather than some nefarious intention.

They'd at least made it to the bedroom before he began to properly fall apart. They hadn't even showered and the both of them were still covered in dried blood, some of it their own and others belonging to their friends. Jeremy found himself staring intently at a few small specks of blood on Gavin's neck, wondering how they had gotten there. It took Gavin some time to notice that he'd stopped responding, that the bulkier man above him seemed like more of a crushing weight than ever before. "J?" Gavin's voice croaked, pulling him out of his haze.

"I'm here," he replied after a moment, his voice as weak as he felt as he forced himself to meet Gavin's eyes and smile. That smile never made it to his eyes though, instead finding its way blocked by the tears that began to build up in its place. "I'm here, I'm fine," he repeated, not entirely sure who he was trying to convince anymore. Meeting Gavin's eyes was easier said than done and even in his drunken stupor, Jeremy was able to recognize the pity in the eyes that met his own. Anger bubbled up under the surface, his friends pity causing his insides to squirm. God, Gavin must have thought he was  _pathetic_. Every doubt Ryan and Michael had shared about Jeremy before letting him join the crew was right. He was holding them back, a liability, a weak link. Jeremy didn't need him to vocalize it, he could already see it reflected in the other's eyes.

As Gavin's arms folded around his chest and held him tight, Jeremy could feel himself beginning to crack. The world seemed to be spinning around him as he desperately tried to focus on the bedside lamp, needing something to ground him as it felt like everything else was giving way. "I've got you," a quiet British voice whispered into his ear and before he knew it, a sob pushed out of Jeremy. It wasn't long before the tears followed, energy totally draining from his body as he fell into pieces. He struggled to hide his face, ducking his head against the other man's chest even as he felt a hand move up into his hair, tracing comforting circles on the back of his head. "It's okay, you're safe," Gavin assured him, his voice the calmest presence of all. Jeremy couldn't understand how he was holding it together. He'd expected Gavin to freak out, to push him away for being so weak and  _yet_... yet here he was.

Jeremy wasn't sure how long it took him to pass out, all he knew was that he woke up the next morning feeling utterly exhausted, like he had cried and sobbed every last bit of energy out of his body. Much to his surprise though, Gavin was still holding him in his arms. The Brit was asleep, more peaceful than he had ever seen him before and it hit Jeremy right in his heart. Was it possible that Gavin actually cared? That maybe it had just been Jeremy's mind sabotaging him all along, just like it had at school. His brain was still utterly fried and it was as if a great weight was pushing him down but the warmth of the other's arms around him gave him something to focus on. An anchor, so to speak.

They didn't speak about it the next day. 

Geoff had the decency not to call them in for a debrief until the day after that and by that point Jeremy felt a lot calmer. Gavin had left a few hours after he'd risen that initial day following the heist and Jeremy had allowed himself to mope with only a drink for company. He still felt a little woozy by the time he arrived at the new place Geoff was running things from but enough to focus. He told himself he was just imagining the look of concern that flashed over Gavin's face when he wobbled into the room because it was gone so quickly, replaced with a bright smile that made Jeremy's heart skip a beat or two. 

They ended back at Jeremy's after that, lips desperately making contact with any strip of skin they could find. The debriefing had sobered Jeremy up and he felt strangely naked, terrifying exposed for Gavin. Even without the other reacting, the shorter male could feel his mind starting to cannibalizing itself, telling him that he needed a drink if he was going to be impressive, if he was going to keep the other interested in him. "I need a drink," he gasped, pulling back sharply from where his lips had been exploring the exposed skin along Gavin's neck. Before he could move too far away, Gavin's hands grasped him around the wrists and held him in place.

"You don't," the Brit told him, his voice little more than a whine. When Jeremy tried to pull away, the grip only became tighter and Gavin's lazy smile dropped into a frown. "You need to drink so you can fuck me?" he asked sharply, cutting Jeremy as much as any knife could have. His stomach twisted in self-loathing as he stopped struggling for freedom. What could he even say to that? It wasn't true but at the same time, had they ever fucked when Jeremy hadn't been off his face drunk? They were all professional until he got a few drinks down him.

"That's not what I mean at all," he hissed through his teeth, pulling back sharper this time and snapping out of Gavin's grip. The other looked at him with such hurt in his eyes that for a moment Jeremy froze before pulling himself off of Gavin entirely. "I just... I need a drink."

Much to his frustration, Gavin followed him into the kitchen and watched him pour out some bourbon. "You'll end up like Geoff, you know," the other warned. It was a strange thing to be warned about and all Jeremy could do was frown in response. "He's more broken than you realize. Fuck, J, we all are." Once again Jeremy was at a loss for words. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Just stop drinking and find the courage to pretend like everything was okay when it really fucking wasn't?

"Right, but you using sex to cover up is totally more acceptable, right?" He'd said it before he could properly think it through. For a second Gavin looked like he'd been slapped before his expression dropped into something much stonier. Jeremy hated himself for the sudden change in Gavin's body language, every inch of relaxation being closed away as if he was suddenly confronted with somebody he neither recognized nor trusted. That stung more than anything else. "Gav, that's not... I didn't mean..." But he had. That was the worst part, wasn't it? He couldn't even trust himself to say the right thing.

Gavin all but marched to the door, not even sparing him a glance until Jeremy reached out to grab him. The glare that he was greeted with in response made him drop his hand immediately, recoiling in surprise at the monster hiding behind Gavin's eyes. "Maybe you're not cut out for the crew,  _Little_ J," he hissed, voice low and dangerous and simply not Gavin. It was terrifying to consider that this was the person hiding behind his friend's insecurity, the one that he repressed by fucking his life away. "After all, you know how much Geoff hates weak links."

Jeremy was so paralyzed by that last comment he didn't even noticed Gavin had pulled away from him until the slam of the door snapped him back to reality.  _I'm the weak link_ , his mind repeated on a loop as he moved over to the kitchen counter in an almost robotic fashion. He didn't bother with a glass, he just grabbed the bottle and accepted everything his mind had been telling him for weeks. Maybe Gavin was right. Maybe he really wasn't cut out for this after all.

 

* * *

 

Gavin wasn't surprised when Jeremy didn't turn up to Geoff's briefing the day after that. He'd calmed down enough by now to realize he'd been far too harsh on his friend but his own pride and stubbornness prevented him from calling or at least sending a message. He wanted to apologize face-to-face, to assure Jeremy that he hadn't meant it. If anybody was the weak link here, it was him. He'd been falling apart slowly but surely for years, throwing himself at anybody who would have him - Michael, Ryan,  _Jeremy_ \- just to remind himself that he was something more than a lowlife criminal who was probably destined to rot for in a cell for the rest of his life when he got too sloppy.

It was only when Jeremy was missing for a whole week of briefings that he started to get nervous. Geoff was getting irritable, threatening to hurt the younger man when he eventually turned up and watching Geoff slowly descend into anger was never fun. He wasn't the only one getting concerned either and after six days of no contact with their friend, Michael decided to check up on him in person only to find an empty apartment. No Jeremy, no decoration, nothing.

Gavin was crushed. 

There was really no escaping that this was his fault, something he confessed to Michael as they lay in bed together one night. He'd found out exactly what made the bomb inside Jeremy explode and he'd played with the trigger one too many times. Of course he was bound to set it off because since when had Gavin ever been able to play it safe? He pushed and pushed and pushed until people broke and then they were gone. It had happened with Dan and now Jeremy... fuck, he didn't deserve anyone, did he?

Geoff spent the next few days sending them out on search missions to see if they could locate Jeremy, only to give up in a bitter rage. He cursed and screamed at Jeremy for deserting them but his tirade was only met with silence in response. They were all too scared of their boss to say anything, even though Gavin was desperate to explain that this wasn't Jeremy's fault, it was  _his_. He couldn't stand the fact that they thought Jeremy was a coward when it was his mistake but honestly he was too scared to say anything. The real coward was hiding among them still.

It continued eating Gavin up for months until they finally located Jeremy. They had long since given up the hunt and then entirely by chance, they stumbled upon him in the most unusual of places. He wasn't alone, either. He was surrounded by three others at a pizza restaurant, laughing and joking as if they didn't live in the most crime-troubled city on the west coast. They seemed so normal that nobody would ever suspect how much blood Jeremy had washed off of himself. He looked so happy and alive that it made Gavin's heart ache because he couldn't remember the last time he had seen Jeremy interact with their crew like that. He even looked different, half of his hair now a bright green and more color injected into his wardrobe like a shock of life in what had once been a drab existence.

Gavin was so busy staring at the other man that it took him even longer to notice who he was sat with. All it took was one glance around the table to know that he was looking at The Know, a small crew who focused more on gathering and sharing intel for profit than actually trying to take over the city. The purple hair caught his eye next, matched with a pretty face that Gavin recognized from long ago. Meg Turney, retired gun-for-hire who had once broken Gavin's wrist when the Fake AH Crew had gotten in the way of her mission. Meg's fingers were laced with the blond woman's next to hers and they occasionally glanced at each other with such comfortable adoration that there was no mistaking that they were together. Even with his candy pink hair, the fourth person at the table was unmistakably Kdin, a hacker who had helped them out on a few cases a few years ago before deciding to retire from active crew work. Gavin had heard rumors that he was running with The Know now but it still caught him by surprise.

Hell, there was nothing about the group that didn't catch him by surprise but it was easily Jeremy's presence that threw him the most.

"You gonna go over there?" Michael asked from beside him, pulling him back into reality. They'd ducked into an alleyway the moment they'd recognized their former crew member and hadn't moved for minutes. Gavin's mind was racing too hard for him to think properly but he knew enough to shake his head fiercely. Jeremy looked genuinely happy and he couldn't bring himself to ruin that, not after everything he'd already done to him. Michael looked like he wanted to argue but thankfully he kept his mouth shut and instead threw his arm around his shoulder. "Come on then, there's no point wasting time here."

If seeing Jeremy hanging out with The Know was a surprise then discovering that Ryan already knew was a goddamn bombshell. Not only that but neither Geoff nor Caleb seemed surprised. Only Gavin and Michael reacted strongly because  _what the fuck?_  Apparently he'd known all along because surprise, he'd been the one to put Jeremy into contact with The Know in the first place. Ryan had always been the one making visits to Meg and Ashley to get tips or blueprints for them and apparently when he'd caught wind of Jeremy wanting to leave their crew, he'd hooked him up with his other friends. The more he heard, the more Gavin wanted to throttle the much larger man.

"And what, he's just  _staying_ with them?" he cried out in despair. The frown that curved Ryan's lips only infuriated him more.

"Of course. Why would he... Look, he said it suits him a lot more. He's not cut out for field stuff, we can't hold that against him," Ryan explained, voice as calm and measured as ever. If anything that only served to piss Gavin off even more. How could he be so calm about that? No, scratch that, how could he go behind their backs like he had and let them begrudgingly accept that Jeremy might as well be dead? He'd told Geoff and Caleb apparently (although there were no secrets between them, they all knew that) so was it really too impossible to share that news with him and Michael? "He didn't want you to know. I kept my word," the man continued, shrugging it off as if they were having the most casual discussion in the world. "We're not about to go drag him back."

"Well why the hell not?" Gavin exclaimed before he could even put rational thought into it.

Geoff huffed, clapping his hand down on Gavin's shoulder. "It's not worth it, kid. Just... let him go, yeah?" he murmured, a sad smile on his face as he left Gavin to work things out for himself. Eventually they all did and he was left with his feet dangling off of Geoff's balcony and only his thoughts for company.

It turned out letting Jeremy go was much easier said than done. Geoff brought in Trevor to replace Jeremy's spot in the team and it took Gavin the longest to accept him as anything more than a temporary replacement. "Keep your options open for when J gets back," he'd tell Trevor, cutting him down for any achievement the others praised him for. He knew he was being antagonistic, that he was losing friends quickly but he couldn't help it. Letting go was so much harder than he'd expected it to be. They hadn't been anything more than friends, had they? Jeremy had only fucked him because he'd asked, because Gavin was so desperate to be touched and reminded that he was human. Now nothing compared to the way Jeremy had kissed him or how he'd felt inside him. Every part of Gavin's body missed him.

Like people always said, time did eventually heal that loss. He accepted Trevor, grew close with him even until they ended up in bed together. Michael warned him off repeating past mistakes but Gavin forced his face into a dopey smile and assured him that everything was fine. In a way, things really were fine. Ryan assured him that Jeremy was happy at The Know, that he'd found a place that didn't make him want to fall apart. He was happy for him, truly.

As for the rest of the crew... they were still falling apart, of course, but as always they managed to hold on. Michael rode his flashy motorbikes at the most extreme speeds and Caleb still practiced his stitches late into the night. Geoff had his drink, Gavin had Trevor and Ryan had his goddamn still life paintings. It wasn't much but they were all able to cling onto whatever scraps they humanity they had left. In their lifestyle, could they possibly ask for anything more?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was going to take place in the same universe as the rest of my FAHC fics but certain elements I wanted to include didn't line up so I decided to make it an independent story. This certainly ended up differently from how I expected it to but I really like the idea of Jeremy being a part of the Know crew and just finding his place there. Expect maybe a follow-up exploring his time with Meg, Ashley and Kdin at some point in the future if I'm particularly inspired!


End file.
